Harry Potter and the book of Eibon
by bor902
Summary: Our lives.. are dull. We float around aimlessly, getting pulled into the current of every insignificant event around us. Perhaps one can grin and bear living like that in a reality that can't be altered by mere thoughts, but I had stepped into a realm of magic. It awakened the lust for power within me that had, mayhaps, always simply slumbered under the weight of physics. A HP SI
1. Chapter 1

**Thanks for editing: Almarna, Myllinu, Benjy benjy**  
**Probably not a lot of people interested in reading a self insert into a completely oc character. But I wrote this for fun, so I thought I may as well post it.**  
**Chapter 1**

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I sat comfortably on my lonesome in the Hogwarts express compartment I'd occupied, having some last qualms about going through with the plan. Having come early enough to have the luxury, I inevitably came to the conclusion that it was better for me to go through with it. From a purely entertainment value-oriented viewpoint naturally. The argument here being that it was all that mattered. If I failed to acquire a world-view centred on making decisions purely for entertainment, I would be condemned to living out a very boring existence indeed.

I eventually stood up, sighing, and left the compartment to make my way outside the train, into the sparsely filled platform 9 ¾, well, until I trudged my way onto the muggle side that was. The bustle was, as always, ever-present, and all consumingly annoying.

Hopefully, I would not have to wait too long, but deep within myself, I knew, that a long wait, was just the fate I'd condemned myself too by being an early bird. Thankfully patience with my own failures of character was one of my better developed traits.

I found an unoccupied red-bricked arch, and leaned against it, uncaring for the dirt that would inevitably cling to my overly large brown leather jacket.

Magic had the habit of being able to solve almost all of the problems that humans encountered in their day to day life except, naturally, for the actually important ones.

Blocking out the smell and the sound around me, I focused my attention inwards, and upon finding my connection to magic, gripped it, spreading it outwards like a demented soap bubble. Bright lights of differing colours lit up in the back of my mind.

This particular method of extrasensory awareness left me blind to muggles, but muggles were not what I was interested in today, and thus it was permissible to use this particular method. It was better to switch around with different versions of different magicks anyway, one might discover something new.

I still had my eyes open anyhow, I would notice a muggle approaching me with ill intent.

The paranoia willed it so, but it was still rather unlikely that anyone would accost me. Great Britain in 1991 was a great deal safer than it had been in the years after the turn of the millennia. And a thirteen year old boy was hardly worth accosting. What things of value could he possibly be in possession of?

A lot, actually, but it was all stashed away safely within my inventory.

I passed the time with testing out this particular method of magical sensing, trying to see if I was capable of identifying my magical peers by only their signature.

Nothing came of it, sadly. The only persons I'd been capable of guessing the identity of being twins, due to the striking similarity of their connection to magic.

After the third time of focusing my eyes to confirm I'd identified the correct set of twins attending Hogwarts, I was blinded by a sea of orange. The Weasleys. Show-time then, I lightly kicked off of the arch I'd been leaning against and quickly walked towards the only entrance to the branch of platforms, one of which housed the Hogwarts express.

I tried to keep up the magical sensing as I moved, but it eventually slipped through my fingers as if it was water. It didn't matter. It had worked long enough for me to find my objective. I honed in on the magical signature glaring at me from a sea of dullness and met a pair of green eyes, the owner of which froze once I started power-walking towards him.

I stood still in front of the child with black hair and rubbed off my sweaty palms on my jacket. The nervousness that had been making itself into a right annoyance over the last several dozen minutes dissipated, and I was feeling better than ever. As I always did when the planning stage of a plan ended, and the execution began.

"Harry Potter?" I asked, watching the kid warily eye me before he eventually nodded.

"Hagrid," I started, his wariness lessened once I'd mentioned that particular name, "forgot to tell you how exactly you are to enter platform 9 ¾. Introducing muggle-raised students isn't his usual job so I find it an understandable error. I hope you will find it within yourself the capacity to forgive him, he is a kind man, just prone to hyper-focusing on certain matters." I said, watching his wariness slough completely off of him once I'd complimented the gentle giant.

"It's fine," Harry said in a quiet voice. "You're here to guide me then?" He asked.

I nodded, put my hand in my pocket, and summoned forth a brown woollen cap. I threw it at the boy, who instinctively caught it. I brought up a finger to my forehead and tapped it. He quickly got the message and put on the cap.

"Wouldn't want to be swarmed by well-wishers again." I jokingly said, at which he gave me a grateful smile.

"I'm Eibon by the way, but enough dawdling, let's get you on the train." I introduced myself and turned around to start a slow march towards the wall that we would have to run through to get on the train.

"I'll warn you," I said, turning my head back slightly to address Harry and to make sure that he was behind me, he was, "the entrance to the platform is quite unconventional, it requires us to run through a wall. Just follow me, and don't hesitate. I believe you're brave enough to manage just fine, both your parents were quite exemplary in exhibiting that trait after all." I finished as we reached the wall that we would have to go through. I knew the comment about his parents would interest him into forgetting about his worries about crashing into a wall, and simply run after me as quickly as he could.

I broke forth into a run, hearing a broken of a sentence beginning with 'You', from behind me, before it devolved into frantic steps and the creaking of luggage.

Hedwig hooted.

I ran past the Weasleys, who were still there, therefore confirming my assumption that they were waiting for someone.

Fred and George shouted hello at me, which I returned with a short wave, we were in the same year, before I flew through the wall, receiving a few raised eyebrows, and quickly de-accelerated before I crashed into anyone. Harry joined me shortly after, and ground to a halt, panting. "You knew my parents?" He asked, through deep and harsh breaths.

"Yeah, I did," I said as I made my way through the throngs of magicals, Harry following behind me. "We can talk more about it when we find a compartment though, too many people here."

I was still worried about someone recognizing the boy and taking him away from me. People would take notice if I started talking about his parents. The cap seemed to be working, none of the Weasleys joining us, presumably still waiting on the other side, but I didn't want to take any chances.

I helped Harry with packing away his luggage cart, by banishing it in the general direction of where they were stored, the enchanted rack solved the rest, and cast a silent levitating charm on the boy's luggage, expect for Hedwig's cage, her, he could carry around.

We silently made our way through the rows of compartments, a few greetings coming flying my way before we found an empty one. I deposited the boy's luggage on the racks, and sat down, stashing away my wand in my inventory after casting a very light aversion charm on the door, and turned to face the boy, who'd sat down opposite of me.

"I knew your parents, yes," here I had to be careful, "well, more specifically, I knew your mother, she babysat me a few times before she married your father. She didn't think I was magical as well and was, therefore, a very unimaginative storyteller, she'd just tell me about her time at Hogwarts. Although I admit, the school is certainly more magical than any book she could have read me." I said.

"How old were you?" Harry asked.

"Two or something, thankfully I've always had a frighteningly good memory, so I remember most of it, or else my life would have been all the poorer for not remembering her." I said with a wistful voice, naturally lying through my teeth. I'd of course never meet Lily Evans, having spent most of my childhood in a German orphanage.

"Can you," Harry hesitated, "tell me more about her?" He asked, at which I simply nodded.

"If anyone deserves to hear it, then you do." I precluded, before launching into tales of Lily Evans and her time at Hogwarts. Most of it was even true. I did know a bit about her after all. Enough to make up several short stories.

Good at charms and potions, best friend sorted into the rival house, having a trusty friend who she talked about boys with, here Harry pulled a grimace, probably stuck in the naïve, but common, belief that his mother had died a virgin. Every factoid I stretched out into an almost hilarious length, which only worked due to the fact that I'd practised the stories beforehand, was good at talking, and that the boy listening was desperate for any tidbit of information.

I eventually ran out of facts and descended into assumptionary story-telling. Why yes Lily was completely enraptured by her first view of Hogwarts. Naturally, I didn't know this, but it could certainly be assumed considering her origins. I did not tell Harry this part. What followed was a long string of stories that most every muggleborn was likely to experience.

Scared, but putting on a brave front when meeting a ghost for the first time. Falling in love with magic. Working hard to succeed in classes. Having a first flying lesson. Trying to adapt to using quills and parchment. Living with dorm-mates. Getting lost. Talking to portraits. Moving staircases.

Honestly, I was basically giving Harry a collection of tales about Hogwarts itself, his mother only becoming a medium through which he could view the castle through. Not that he cared. He listened, and listened, asking not a single question, until the words falling from my lips eventually ceased, and I descended into silence, contemplative look glued to my face.

Harry was forced to finally ask a question. One I'd been expecting since I had made sure to end on one particular story. One, that if it elicited the correct series of events, would enormously brighten up Harry's future time at Hogwarts. "What happened after her friend from the rival house lashed out angrily and insulted her?"

"I don't know," I whispered. Unfocusing my eyes and letting a few tears fall. I quickly wiped them off with my jacket. "That was the last time I ever heard of her until I was admitted to Hogwarts, and dug through the newspapers in the library to learn more of her fate."

"She must have been an amazing person for you to still remember so much about her." Harry muttered, looking down.

"No," I said, and his head whipped up, angry glare forming, "I later learned, that she was one of the best."

Tears started falling from the boy's eyes. He quickly wiped them away.

"Although to be fair, I also have a certain magical talent that improves my memory, if it had been any other child, they would most likely have no recollection of her." I added after a while.

I put my hands in my pocket and pulled out a few grains of the powdered root of asphodel, and some wormwood, I handed it over to a confused Harry.

"Er, what is this?" He eventually asked, causing me to give him a sad look.

"Your mother's family was very invested in Victorian flower language, I guess the tradition was discontinued," I grumbled, before explaining. "The powder stuff is from an asphodel. It's a type of Lily, in flower language it basically means 'My regrets follow you to the grave', the other stuff is wormwood, it means 'absence' and symbolizes bitter sorrow. Combining the two means 'I bitterly regret Lily's death'." I said, to Harry's continued confused silence.

"I thought it was quite clever honestly." I eventually said, rubbing the back of my head.

"Err, it's a nice gesture, and I appreciate it, but… why do you carry this stuff in your pocket?" He reassured me and asked.

"Oh, those are potion ingredients, I need it for potions class," I waved him off when he tried to hand it back to me, "don't worry, I won't be missing that little. I still have enough to brew the 'draught of the living dead'"

Harry awkwardly put the asphodel powder and the wormwood into his pocket. "Draught of the living dead?" He asked, probably impressed by the wicked name.

"It's a concoction that puts the drinker into a death-like slumber. I think it up in a rather famous muggle play, 'Romeo and Juliet' I think. Well, suffice to say, once you've sipped the draught, not even one of these bad boys is going to save you," I pulled out a bezoar and showed it off to Harry, "it's a bezoar, you can find it within the stomach of a goat, great general anti-toxin." I explained at his questioning look.

"Potions sounds wicked," Harry said, excitement tingeing his voice.

"Yeah, it can be quite dangerous though, I've seen more than one explosion, and people need to be taken to the hospital wing sometimes. The teacher is pretty strict because of that." I said, nodding sagely.

"What year are you-" Harry started but was cut off by someone knocking on the door, and opening it before we'd even have the chance to say anything.


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks to Almarna, Ryu D for editing  
Chapter 2

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"Have you seen a toad?" A bushy-haired girl asked imperiously and stared at us expectantly.

The expression on Harry's face said all that needed to be said about what he thought about her demeanour, but I was slightly more prepared for the confrontation with Hermione's social incompetence than he.

"You should wait for someone to beckon you inside after knocking, we could have been changing." I softly chastised, careful to keep every emotion but disappointment out of my voice.

The girl blushed and began to stammer something, but I interrupted her. "Regarding the toad, no I haven't seen one, but if you wish, I could summon it here." I offered, at which Hermione promptly, any embarrassment that she might have felt about being called out on her rude behaviour forgotten, began rapid-firing questions in my direction.

I shall spare the reader a rendition of the questions, as they can probably imagine what they pertained.

"I would be willing to answer questions, after having dealt with the issue of the missing toad, but I think an errant pet has priority at the moment. Can you describe the animal to me in greater detail?" I chastised, again, before asking a question that I knew would remain unanswered.

"Oh, so you need to know how it looks to summon it? It's not actually my toad, and I haven't seen it, I guess I could go get Neville so he can describe it." Hermione quickly babbled out before promptly running off.

I stared at the spot that she'd inhabited before leaving.

"Shoe-in for Ravenclaw that one. Although I fear that we won't be getting any peace in the next seven years if she gets sorted there." I commented.

"Ravenclaw, that's one of the houses right. Is it the one you're in?" Harry asked.

"Yes, the house of knowledge, and one of the two houses that you should wish to be in if you want to have a quiet school experience," I answered.

Harry made to query further, but was interrupted by an out of breath Hermione appearing once again at our door, dragging an even more out of breath pudgy blonde behind her.

"You're talking about Hogwarts houses? The topic is so interesting and I've read all about it in 'Hogwarts a History' d-" She started again, but I cut her off with a cough and a pointed look in Neville's direction. She blushed again and her mouth shut with an audible 'click'.

"Can you describe your toad to me Neville, preferably starting with the name?" I politely asked the boy as I pulled out my wand.

"Errm, well his name is Trevor, he's about this big," he gestured how big exactly he was with his hands, "he's green, and warty and has this weird orange spot on his back." He said before falling silent, crossing his eyes. "That's, uhmm, all I can say really, he's a toad."

I raised my wand, and slowly completed the wand motion of the summoning charm, enunciating the spell clearly. "_Accio_ Trevor the toad." As I held a mental image of that very toad in the forefront of my mind. I could have honestly done it without fanfare, a single flick of my wand would have been enough, the summoning charm being my second most well-used charm, but I wanted to make sure to do it correctly.

Knowing I had succeeded when I felt a connection that was growing ever closer form with some sort of object, in this case probably Trevor, I waited. Not too long, four seconds or so, although that was enough time for everyone in the compartment to start growing fidgety. Thankfully that was the point where the toad came tumbling in through the open door. I snapped off the summoning charm with a mental twang, and caught the toad in a simple levitating charm, directing it gently into Neville's arms.

He grasped it out of the air with a soft exclamation of "Trevor!", before profusely thanking me. I was gladdened that he did not attempt to do so by shaking my hand.

Before Hermione could launch into a barrage of questions, I started explaining the charm I'd just cast, seeing out of the corner of my eye, that Harry was also curious.

"Accio, the summoning charm. One of the most useful pieces of magic you will ever learn. It has some peculiarities however, although I hesitate to call them such, since they are in hindsight quite obvious. Firstly," I put up one finger, "the chance of successfully casting the spell is increased if you have an intimate knowledge of what you are summoning, which is why I asked for a description of Trevor. Secondly, the summoning is made easier if you have a claim on the item that you are attempting to summon. It would be easier to summon a pair of shoes that belong to you, rather than, let's say, a pair of shoes that belong to a room-mate of yours. Thirdly, this being an extension of the second point. If you are attempting to summon something that is currently being held by someone else, you will enter a contest of will, intent deciding who shall lay claim on the item. This coincidentally is why it is almost impossible to summon people, except perhaps parents summoning their children in dangerous situations. Fourthly you will be learning the charm in your fourth year."

I saw the disappointed looks on their faces, and that Hermione and Neville had sat down and closed the compartment sometime during my explanation.

"As long as you stick to the curriculum, of course. I'm a third-year myself." I flagrantly added, drawing a dramatic gasp from Hermione.

"That means you learnt the spell two years early!" She exclaimed, at which I nodded.

"But why, wouldn't it be better to learn it when the teachers deem you ready?" She then asked.

I shrugged. "It seems that you've made the common misconception that muggleborns make when they begin attending Hogwarts. They are blinded by the magic, and forget that it is a school. The only school in Britain in fact, which means they can't allow anyone to fail before their sixth-year, and as you undoubtedly remember, a class only moves as fast as its slowest member." I said.

Hermione gained a disappointed look to her face, which prompted a laugh from me.

"Don't look so down, I just mentioned earlier that I learned the spell when I technically shouldn't have yet. Take the curriculum Hogwarts offers as a bare minimum to accomplish, sinking as little time into it as possible, and then discover other magic at your own pace. We have quite the library." I tried to comfort, adding a little something that I knew would draw a reaction. The one who reacted just wasn't the one I expected.

"As little as possible?" Harry asked, while Hermione still seemed stunned into silence by my heresy.

"It's a problem of diminishing returns really," I started, before pausing, formulating my answer, "It takes a lot more time to master something than it does to simply understand the basics. For example, with one hour of studying for a subject, let's say Charms, I have an average grade of EE, exceeds expectations, which requires you to have about 80% of the knowledge on any given task. I could get that EE to an O, outstanding, with another hour of studying. But in that one hour which I invested in raising my Charms grade from an EE to an O, 80% to 90%, I could have learned a completely different subject to an EE level." I finished, before shrugging.

"The question here is naturally if you would prefer having a deep understanding of one subject, or an average understanding of two." I stated.

"So, if you've been ignoring school subjects, what have you been learning?" Neville surprisingly asked.

I smiled at him. "Well, I was always quite interested in healing, so I've been learning some of that on the side. Other than that, I also think that the mind arts are pretty interesting." I explained, leaving out my study of rituals and battle magic not taught at Hogwarts. They did not need to know. I was hesitant to even mention me studying mind arts, but seeds needed to be planted.

"The mind arts?" Hermione asked dubiously, furrowing her brows. "What's that?"

"It's the discipline of defending your mind from foreign influences, such as compulsions, mind shocks, and mind readers. The other side of the spectrum is naturally learning how to attack other minds. I'm honestly quite uninterested in either," a lie, "what I find fascinating is magic's potential to enhance the effectiveness of your mind. Thought acceleration, thought partitioning, memory manipulation. Stuff like that." I said, and shrugged.

"Isn't that dangerous?" Hermione exclaimed, while Harry seemed to be stuck on another implication. "Wizards can read minds!?"

"Yeah, they can. They can also control minds, erase/manipulate memories and much more" I answered Harry's question first, before turning to Hermione. "It is dangerous yes, and I don't recommend you delve too deep into the topic unless you're willing to go at a very slow pace so as to make it less so. However, in the end, learning magic at the potential detriment of your own self is a choice everyone needs to make for themselves."

Harry was blanching with a queasy face, staring out the window, and probably reconsidering going to Hogwarts. Hermione meanwhile was biting her lip, seemingly halting an outburst from herself.

"What other kinds of magic are there, that aren't taught in the curriculum?" She eventually asked.

"Well, I only know the ones I know, naturally, but as mentioned, there's healing and the mind arts. Then we have, let me think, Alchemy, Oneiromancy, Enchanting, Warding, spatial magic, runic magic, rituals, emotion based magic and spirit magic." I halted for a second. "Those are the disciplines I can think off the top of my head, without mentioning the ones that are completely illegal. There are probably a lot more. Although I don't know if Hogwarts has books on every small branch of magic in existence."

"Wait, you mean that we don't learn how to defend our minds in school?" Harry asked, latching onto the thing that seemed to be worrying him the most.

I shrugged, "apparently."

I took a glance at the only girl in the compartment, who still seemed to be looking into nothing with a shocked face.

Harry grumbled and threw himself back.

"Are you telling me that for every subject we have, there are a dozen different branches of magic that we won't even cover." Hermione, looking as if someone had just brazenly walked up to her breakfast table, Pulled down their pants and shat in her cereal.

"Well yeah, although to be fair, you can't just go to university and take every single course there is either." I explained. "With how appalled you look at being denied knowledge, I can definitely see that you'll be a good fit for Ravenclaw." I attempted, quite brutishly to change the topic, we would be arriving at Hogwarts soon.

Hermione seemed taken aback at that, before mumbling something about Gryffindor.

I gave her a weirded out look, "Sorry, but why would you want to be in Gryffindor. The learning environment there is horrible. No offence." I quickly said to Neville.

"Why would the learning environment be horrible?" Hermione asked, seemingly confused.

"Well, if you're sorted into Gryffindor, you automatically make an enemy out of most people in Slytherin, so you already start with one fourth of the school not liking you, which can't be pleasant. Then, Gryffindor is the house of the courageous and just, but what people seem to forget is that eleven year-olds can hardly exhibit these two traits, and rather than being courageous and chivalrous, exhibit the various sub-set personality traits, like brashness, being quick to judge and exclude others." I said, carefully watching Neville's reaction. "They're basically, in a muggle equivalent, the house of jocks."

Hermione seemed scandalized, while Neville seemed, apathetic, simply listening with a far away look in his eyes.

"My Grandmother always says that Gryffindors aren't worth interacting with until they've been out in the real world for a bit." He admitted with a frown, apparently noticing my look.

"Alright, so Gryffindor might not be the best for learning, but what makes Ravenclaw so great?" Hermione asked, seeming unconvinced.

"The house of Knowledge, this basically means you'll be sharing a house with people who value learning, and will know to respect you doing that if you wish. Ravenclaw is one of the two neutral houses at Hogwarts, which means you won't make any enemies if you're sorted there. We also have our own rooms, not dorm-rooms." I explained, before tapping my chin in thought. "Oh, and we also have a personal library, containing books not in the Hogwarts library, donated by various Ravenclaw alumni."

Hook, line and sinker. Hermione seemed convinced.

"Although, I should warn you, that the environment can get quite anti-social and academically competitive in the higher years. I've had people refuse to tell me what books they read to learn certain theories and whatnot, because they were afraid I'd pass them in class rankings if given the advantage." I warned. "However, all in all, Ravenclaw's goal as a house is to foster academic and magical ambition, and it does this the best out of the four houses. Just like Slytherin fosters political ambition, and Hufflepuff fosters a friendly environment to spend seven years in."

"Friendly environment?" Harry asked, curiously.

I nodded, "Well, it is the house of hard work, and loyalty. As mentioned earlier children don't really know the meaning of real loyalty, and thus the personality trait its replaced with is basically friendliness. Personally, if I wasn't so focused on learning magic, I would have wanted to be in Hufflepuff. It has a pretty friendly and easy-going atmosphere."

Harry nodded, looking contemplative.

"I will warn you however, the way that the sorting works, you can influence the house you will be in yourself. Which sometimes leads to people who really should not be in a house, being sorted there anyway. Be it because they want to honour family tradition, or because they have some sort of fancy idea of what the house is supposed to be and want to be part of it."

That was the moment that the train conductor announced that we would be arriving in Hogwarts soon, and Neville and Hermione left for their own compartment.

I turned to Harry. "This is where we part ways, the first years take the more scenic route to Hogwarts, do enjoy the experience. Farewell" I said, before leaving the compartment without another word.


End file.
